Pornography
by megelizabethvh88
Summary: After finding out their sketches are being monitored for sexual content, Michael gets upset and Eric spills a dirty little secret. THERE IS NO REAL PORNOGRAPHY IN THIS!


**DISCLAIMER:** This is just a warning that the story you're about to read contains mature content of language and strong sexuality. I do NOT own any characters (unless said otherwise) in these stories, and of course, some timelines may be different than real life. This warning was written for you, the reader, to be prepared for what your eyes may seek, and thank you for taking the time to read my stories. So if you don't like it, then get the hell out of here.

* * *

**pornography**

- **n**

Writings, pictures, films, etc designed to stimulate sexual excitement

The production of such material.

* * *

Michael unlocked the front door of his flat and slammed it shut, almost in Eric's face as he didn't realize his lover was so close behind. Clearly, he was annoyed, very upset, by the way Michael was stomping up the small set of stairs to the sitting room and he shrugged off his jacket, which he threw into the chair in the corner. He turned around in the middle of the room by the loveseat when the front door reopened and his eyes landed on Eric, who was locking the front door and he came up the steps. "Fuck, Michael, you didn't have to shut the door in my face," he muttered under his breath, not paying any attention to his lover.

"Well, _fuck_, Eric, I'm upset. Don't I have the right to be upset?" Michael demanded. "We were just called perverts!"

"We were not called perverts, we were told we were making inappropriate material – "

"_Pornography_!"

Eric sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "No one said we were making pornography. All we were told was that '_some runt of the BBC litter_' – as Terry called them – had phoned and told him that there could be no more nudity in his animations. And in addition to that, there couldn't be any more talk of anything sexual on the show, and there couldn't be any more talk of masturbation,"

Michael rolled his eyes, his voice full of hassle and disdain. "Yes, because we talk about masturbation _all the time_ on the show."

"Terry said they are really pissed with how we've acted on the show. So now, we have to have the sketches read and approved before filming, and anything that is considered inappropriate will be censored out. And if they aren't approved, the board of censorship will be after them," Eric replied.

"They're acting like we're making _pornography_," Michael told him. "Clearly, we're not. All those naked ladies in Terry's animations? Those are images taken from classical paintings, things that we all grew up seeing in museums and art books. If _we_ are making pornography, what were the_ artists_ making? Carol hasn't once taken her clothes off; in fact, none of us have exposed our private parts, arses excluded. And we're _not_ fucking in front of the cameras,"

"I'm sure they don't realize that sex is probably the most natural thing a person can do," Eric said distracted as he picked up the newspapers. "It's something that everyone does. Everyone has the _urge to fuck_ at some point in their life. We all do it, they all do it, everyone knows that everyone does it _and_ that they about it. So how can it be wrong?" he paused then to shuffle the pages together, then looked up to Michael as he folded them. "I'm sure you tell Terry all about our sex life, don't you?"

Michael put his hand through his hair, scratching his head to hide that he admitting he had revealed some very detailed intimate stories of his sex life with Eric to his friends. But Eric was looking at him, knowing that Michael indeed did talk, and Michael distracted himself from the look by going to the fireplace to start it. "I don't think I'll ever understand. The slightest bit of sexual content in the sketches, after all of the others on every other show out there, for the studio to come down on us like that…_I_ like sex, and I think it brings some of the comedy to our show…I'm bothered because we're not doing anything wrong."

Eric went over to the fireplace and leaned against the mantle to watch Michael kneeling at the hearth. "We know we're not. And it might take a little while, but soon the censors will understand that as well,"

"The whole concept is disgusting – _inappropriate material_! We are not making pornography! People who are paid to take their clothes off and…and touch each other, or themselves, in front of a camera…in a room of ten to twenty people, under bright lights, some pervert off to the side waiting to offer lubricant and handjobs. What is the price to shame yourself like that?"

"You certainly seem to know lots of little details about a pornography shoot."

Michael glared up at him. "You know I'm just guessing, comparing it to our own work. Our own good, _clean_ work…yes, we may expose our arses for a cheap laugh, but it's nothing compared to what I've seen. All the editing and sketch approving is to be done…because we're _too sexual_? We're not sexual _enough_,"

"To the contrary, you are _very_ sexual," Eric reached down to brush Michael's hair from his face. "When we first started, I had to sleep during the day between sketches to keep up with you at night. And I thought _I_ liked sex! I wasn't use to you,"

"It just makes me…_pissed_! It really _pisses_ me off!" Michael stood up then and walked out of the room, swearing under his breath as he went to the kitchen.

Eric couldn't hold back his surprise, as he was now thrown off little thrown off by Michael's verbal expressions. Both of which were strong – one, his dislike for pornography, and two, his rage at the head of the company for comparing their work to such a dirty career choice. "You're _pissed off_? You never get upset like that to use that word! Who do you think you are – _Gilliam_?!"

"Oh, shut it," Michael snapped, and Eric could hear the refrigerator door opening and the items inside shaking when it closed. A liquid trickled – "And I was so _pissed_ that I couldn't even eat dinner. I'm hungry now,"

"If you hadn't been so busy pouting and stomping around Terry's like a child having a tantrum, you could have eaten something. There was so much food, he always makes too much," Eric called to him, and saw Michael's coat still on the chair. He went to pick it up but remember he was still wearing his coat, and began to remove it. There was the sound of Michael returning and Eric turned around again, and that was when he saw his lover standing in the doorway. There was a glass in his hands, containing a dark liquid and Michael was looking at Eric, his eyes concentrating fiercely on Eric's form. "What?" Eric asked.

"…I want to fuck."

Eric paused, his jacket down his back at his wrists. "_You_ want to fuck?"

"Yeah."

"…After all that '_I don't like pornography' _nonsense…you want to _fuck_?"

"Don't say it like that, Eric. It's not like that,"

"Well, it sounds very strange. Maybe we shouldn't ever fuck again, because it's so pornographic. You are quite the kinky bastard," Eric replied in a monotone voice, taking his coat off the rest of the way.

Michael groaned – a noise of impatience. "Oh, _please_, Eric, it's been an awful night, and I could really use it,"

"You could really use an ass banging to make yourself feel better?" Eric asked in disbelief.

His tone of voice made Michael's face turn into a scowl, a sigh that he was annoyed with his lover's voice. And when he made such a face, his lips twisted into a pout and Eric could feel himself weakening. Michael knew that Eric appreciated his pouty mouth and when Michael tilted his head down, slightly to the right, and looked up at him with his big, sweet doe eyes – "_Please_?" he asked as delicately as possible.

_Oh_, Eric was his. "I suppose we could take a few minutes to…discuss the pornography issue at hand," Eric said quietly. He didn't know where this interest in exaggerated sweetness came from, but when Michael acted so naïve, it made Eric's heart jump to his throat and his balls clench. All he wanted to do was grab his lover by the shoulders and pull them close together, front to front, and kiss him, knock him down into the large chair in the center of the room and climb on top of him, kiss him into the back of the chair, something rough. And that was what he did, so he was straddling Michael's lap in the chair; however, Michael broke the kiss to catch Eric's lower lip in a gentle bite, and Eric let out a growl of appreciation – "_Oh_, Michael…" he purred, his hand moving up to cup the back of his lover's head. Yet, Michael had a different idea and he released Eric's lip before pushing hard against Eric, knocking him off Michael's lap and onto the rug on the floor. "Oh_, Michael_!" Eric propped himself up on his elbows to grin up at his over, surprise in his voice.

Michael was on the floor in between Eric's legs in a moment, opening the zipper quickly and pulling down Eric's pants. When the shorts underneath were caught in the tight pants and came down too, Michael leaned forward and caught Eric's hardening cock in his mouth. He peered slyly up his lover's chest to watch Eric inhale sharply, letting it fade into a sigh as he relaxed against the floor, his hands at his sides as they roamed smoothly over the rug. Eric rotated his body in a slow circle, one hip lifting to pull up the other, forcing himself deeper into Michael's mouth. And Michael took it – he took the pressure against his throat, swallowing to create a sensation around Eric. A few more moments passed, and Eric's long thin fingers made their way to his mane of hair, tangling in and gripping the strands. Michael sucked harder, his cheeks going in and touching the sides of the phallus in his mouth; Eric whimpered, tilting his head up to watch Michael. Those lips sealed tightly around –

_Slurp_! Eric was released then and Michael sat up, wiping the shine of saliva from his mouth. "I think you're plenty good now,"

Eric looked down to his form to his cock, which was indeed standing up. It didn't take too long with Michael's mouth to get Eric ready. "You think so? Is that going to be enough for you?"

Michael leaned back slightly, turning his head back and forth as if examining Eric. "Hm…" he pondered, squinting slightly until he straightened up. "Yes, I think it looks just fine – " he reached out to run a finger along the underside. "It feels plenty hard."

"Put a condom on me then," Eric replied.

The one held discreetly in Michael's hand appeared at his mouth, which he ripped the foil with his teeth and took out the ring. "Slide it on slowly," he said under his breath, as if reminding himself, and he dressed the phallus.

Eric sat up then as Michael laid back to remove his own pants, then rolled over onto his knees. Hand held close to his mouth, Eric drooled a puddle into his palm, letting it dribble off his tongue. It collected onto his fingers and was shoved into Michael, as commanded, slipping in and out of him. He could feel Michael squeeze back in return, see his spine curve, counting each vertebra individually as his back concaved, hear Michael moaning as Eric upped his efforts, driving his fingers – "Now. _Now_," Michael demanded.

He cried out when Eric entered him, of shock due to the pressure – as he usually did – he felt so full of Eric and he loved feeling that way. And when Eric withdrew slightly and slammed back into him, again and again, one hand on Michael's shoulder, the other tangled in his hair, Michael's fingers curled against the rug. "Up," he heard Eric repeating. "Get up…to the – the loveseat. Lean over it,"

Michael crawled to the loveseat and stood up, falling forward when Eric pushed against him eagerly. He caught the back of the cushions and Eric held Michael's sides, pulling their forms close and easing back inside of Michael. He was able to find his rhythm again and continued rocking their bodies together in a fast hard pace. Eric loved the noises that Michael would make – brief grunting sounds that were deep and animalistic. He had heard animals fucking at the zoo once; this reminded him of that. Not that he had ever told Michael that he compared their sex to gorillas humping in captivity, as he probably made similar noises himself.

After Eric came, frantically shoving deep inside his lover to fulfill their simultaneous orgasms – which Michael signaled with the _cutest_ whimpers and sighs that Eric adored – he pulled out of Michael, panting furiously and they collapsed on the loveseat together. Eric looked over at Michael, who was melted across the cushions, his skin shining with sweat and his eyes closed. A grin spread over Eric's mouth and he leaned to Michael and put two quick kisses and one long one on him – the first two on his cheek and lips, the third to his mouth again. "That was nice – fucked you just right, didn't I?" Eric asked Michael, his voice teasing.

Michael's eyes slowly opened to look at Eric as his breathing slowly returned to normal. "Yes, you did," he managed to agree.

"Do you feel better now?" Eric leaned over towards the coffee table to collect his cigarettes.

"I said it was good," Michael said impatiently.

He knew what was coming – Eric liked to brag about making Michael cum afterwards, to anyone who would listen; Michael didn't like it so much. And Eric knew that, but sometimes, he let it go on a little longer than necessary. "Good enough to be pornography on the show? To make the censorship light go off?" Eric continued teasing. "Now you see, I was thinking we could give the BBC something to censor – you and me, on set, fucking each other's brains out. Maybe we could do something with a swing, or a double ended dildo – you know, ass to ass – "

It seemed that Eric didn't hear Michael sigh with annoyance and he looked away, trying to ignore Eric's discussion of sexual acts. Michael lit up his own cigarette and reached over to the shelf under the coffee table for his sketches, which he pulled onto his lap and began to go through. "What did you think of this one?" he held out a sketch to Eric, who had read it earlier.

"Great, great," Eric said, not distracted. "Now, I'm not really into feet but if you want me to stick my toes in your arse, we can produce 'Foot Fuckers' – "

"Can we just let it go?" Michael asked bluntly.

Eric paused, confused by the interruption. "I wasn't serious, you know. I don't want to make 'Foot Fuckers', I don't want my toes in your arse,"

"I mean the whole sex talk thing. I don't want to talk about sex all the time. Whenever we get together to read sketches or for dinners, that's all everyone talks about. And yes, Terry and I talk about the sex I have with you, but we have discussions about other things. Why can't those topics be brought to the table more than sex?"

Eric couldn't help but stare at Michael, holding the smoking cylinder between his lips. What was it with Michael that was making him have these anti-sex rants? "So you don't want to talk about sex? _Ever_?"

"No, not _ever_, just not every time we talk," Michael tried to think of a way to explain, but he wasn't sure how. "I suppose it's that I'm offended that our perfectly innocent work materials are being considered such a dirty thing. And maybe someone sees it as such…because most of the time we are all together, there is usually a discussion of sex, so therefore our work is thought of as pornography and we are all perverts!"

All Eric could do was blink at his lover in response, as he had _no_ idea this would happen. It was suppose to be a simple night – dinner at Terry's, a sketch reading or two, drinking and maybe (if not definitely) smoking marijuana. Instead, they interrupted the fun to fight and fuck, and fight more. "But what we write for the show isn't affected by our sex lives. I don't write sketches based on what we do together – has there been one written yet?"

"I don't think you understand what I'm saying – "

"Sure I do. You think that because we talk about sex with our friends and that we have sex together, it is transferred to our work, so therefore we are making pornography. And you think that if we didn't talk about it so much or have as much sex, our work would be cleaner and we would sound like more educated men. Right?"

"…Right. Except for us having less sex."

"And that's why you don't like pornography?"

"_What_?"

"But what about when you and I watch it together? You always seem to enjoy it then, especially when we act it out while watching it – "

Michael's hands went up in surrender, in disgust then, as he wanted Eric to stop talking. "You are the one who watches it because when we moved in together, you were the one who had the big box of pornography films! Eric, I'm upset with the BBC because they think we are nasty people who like to do disgusting things for money on camera. By thinking so, they compare us to awful people with terrible, low standards, and I'll tell you – watching and making are two very different things. I don't think it should be allowed, and I honestly don't know how anyone could live with themselves after doing such a thing," he sighed heavily then, flipping through his sketch pages. "I'm done talking about this," he decided after a pause.

"…You're really disgusted by pornography?" Eric asked with disbelief in his voice as he watched Michael try to get over the subject. "After all of the things we have done together, in and out of bed, the idea of someone fucking in front of a camera gets you so sickened that you think it should be banned?"

"_Yes_!" Michael's voice was exasperated and he wondered how many more time he would have to say it for Eric to get what he was saying. "What _we_ do is something that is done in private, always here in _our place_, not in some…_dirty_ room with a camera and people watching and someone supplying lubricant. It's disgusting what people do for money, and _I_, for one, don't think it should be allowed,"

"…So anyone who takes naked photographs in some kind of disgusting being? _A pervert_?"

Michael sighed heavily, leaning back against the loveseat. _How many times_…"Yes, I think they are disgusting."

There was a short pause then, Eric's arms still crossed over his chest and he nodded, as if understanding. With a quiet exhale, he pushed himself off of the loveseat and walked out of the room. Michael watched Eric walk out, remaining on the cushions, and he went back to his sketches. He didn't think that he would have made Eric so upset with his disbelief in pornography, that it wasn't something for them to fight over. He liked sex – _really_, he did – in private, with just two people, and not in front of a camera. And for their work to be compared to that, why shouldn't he be upset? What was so wrong with that? If Eric wanted to storm off and pout like a child, then so be it – let him act foolish. And it wasn't much longer before Eric returned and Michael didn't even look up at him, as he kept pretending that he was so engrossed in his work – "Here," Eric said, and a large thick envelope landed on Michael's lap.

Michael was startled by the sudden weight that nearly smacked against his penis, and he lowered his papers slightly to look up at Eric. "Jesus, Eric! What is that?"

"Open it," Eric replied. He watched Michael moving slowly, placing his papers next to him on the loveseat pillow, then take up the envelope. "When I started out acting, I really didn't have a lot of money. My mother couldn't spare much…so I had to find a way to make my own. Well…" he paused as Michael opened the envelope. "There was this _thing_ that I was able to respond to…"

"What thing?" Michael put his fingers into the envelope and found thin, stiff pieces of paper. He pulled them out and found they were pictures, pictures of – "Oh my God," his voice was high, surprised, and his eyebrows nearly disappeared off his face into his hairline; one of his hands landed at his throat.

Eric's arms crossed over his chest again, and they hugged himself anxiously. "Yeah…" he grimaced slightly. "Um…I made enough money to get myself a place – "

"…_Oh my God_," Michael repeated, and his hand began to rake through his hair. His eyes continued to scan over the pictures, over Eric's nude form, all glossy and black and white. "You did these? For money?"

"I did."

There were no clear sentences forming in Michael's head, so he was sitting on the loveseat with his mouth open, his eyes just as wide, his hand still gripping his hair, still completely nude. He had seen his fair share of dirty things in his life, usually involving women – there had been that one girl forced to orgasm by humiliation at the hands of two other girls, one who did…_that_, with a _horse_ – and there was nothing dirty about _this_ picture, other than the naked flesh. It was Eric, just Eric, all nude and lovely, the way Michael liked him best. Slowly, Michael's hand left his hair and began to go through the pictures – "Oh my God. Oh my God," he kept muttering.

Eric bit his lip, loosening his grip on himself. "I promise, I only did it once," he tried to make light of the situation.

Michael glanced up at him, shock still on his face. "Just once?" he went to the next picture and his eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hair. "_Who is that girl_?"

"Oh, her?" Eric leaned around to look at the photos better. "Just some girl. Don't worry about her. I haven't talked to her since,"

"Did you _sleep _with her?!" Michael was finally able to blurt out, now even more baffled by Eric's lack of caring.

"No, I didn't have sex with her."

"I just can't believe this. Why haven't you ever told me?" Michael turned his focus back to Eric.

There was a shrug as a response. "It was a subject that never came up. You always assumed that any money I had came from acting…which some of it did. It's just that most of it came from these," he paused then, waiting for something any word or motion to come from his lover, who was still shocked. "Are you okay?"

Michael sighed heavily. "I don't know. I don't know what to say. I never expected this from you. I know you are very open about sex, but…" he glanced down at the picture on top one more time. "Not _that_ open…"

"Please don't let this bother you. It was once, and I didn't sleep with her," Eric assured Michael, chewing on his thumbnail nervously. "I promise…" he waited for a response, hoping that Michael could be more alright with the opened secret. But Eric could see that by the look on Michael's face that he was shocked, that it was going to take him awhile before he was able to get over it. "Michael?"

"Uh…" Michael bit his lip, his eyes still scanning over the pictures. "What do you want me to say?"

Eric shrugged. "I don't know. I would like for you to not be mad about this,"

Michael cleared his throat, finally able to look up at Eric. "I'm not mad…I suppose that I never expected this of you and to suddenly make this discovery…I don't know. I really don't know what to say," he paused again, struggling to prevent himself from looking away. He needed to do this. "I'm…confused. I don't know why you wouldn't tell me about this. I thought we had a good, trusting relationship,"

"And we do. This was something that was never brought up, and I'm sorry, my love. I really am sorry," Eric tried to persuade Michael. "If I could, I would make it the very first thing I had ever told you. I would put it before 'Hi, I'm Eric' or even 'I love you', which is the most important things I've ever said," he paused then to flick cigarette ashes off of the glowing end before extending his hand over Michael's face. "Alright, fine, we'll just start over. 'I took my clothes off for pictures to make money because I was poor and wanted to have dinner. Hello, I'm Eric – should we fuck now or wait until the cab ride home before I put my cock in your arse?'"

"…Oh, right, you would have said that to me," Michael rolled his eyes. It sounded as if Eric was sincere, and he appeared to be the way. Michael bit his lip, trying to decide if that sort of sincerity was…genuine? Oh, how could he doubt Eric, really now. "I don't know," he finally said. "_I'm_ sorry, Eric, but I don't know. This is such a shock to me that I can't think of anything to say, and I probably wouldn't know how to say it if I knew _what_ to say,"

"…Well, if I suppose that's the best you can come up with…you must really hate me then," Eric finally replied with disappointment set in his voice, and he knelt forward to put out his cigarette in the ashtray. And with that, he turned away and disappeared from the room, leaving Michael alone and naked on the loveseat, also disappointed with what had happened.

* * *

"Eric did _what_?" Terry's voice squeaked into Michael's ear.

Michael buried himself deeper into the small coat closet, his body pressed against a couple of rain jackets and Eric's thick black coat. The white phone cord could be seen coiled down the hallway, held tight against the wall from the kitchen – it was his own private phone booth. Not that he needed the privacy, as it was just him and Eric in their small home, but it was still nice to hide away and feel secretive. Although, Eric wasn't very fond of the idea – Michael wasn't sure why – and sometimes Michael could hear Eric tapping his fingers on the other side of door, making whispering noises against the crack on the floor, rattling the doorknob. But now was the right time to be discretely tucked away in the closet, with the topic that was being discussed with Terry. Michael's hand swept over his forehead and down the side of his face, wiping away sweat, as the small space was increasing in temperature. "_You heard me_," he said in a hushed whisper, not wanting to repeat himself – the subject at hand was somewhat embarrassing.

"Did he just come right out and say it? Or did something happen to make him say it?" Terry asked.

"It was after we had dinner with all of you the other night. We were still talking about it when we got home, and he just brought these pictures out – " Michael paused then, thinking that he had heard the front door open, signaling Eric's return, but there was silence.

Terry's voice was saying his name. "_Michael_! There were pictures?! He still has them?"

Michael cleared his throat. "Yes, he still has them. What else would he do with them? I don't know why he has them…he said it was once, and he has never done them again. But it's so strange…Terry, he's done pornography. He was naked in front of a camera and he posed and modeled and…" he cleared his throat again. "And there was a girl in the photos,"

On the other end of the line, Terry was so silent that Michael wondered if he had hung up. "…Well…I never thought Eric would do that kind of thing…I mean, I _would_ think that..._not_ that I think about Eric. I mean, not that…he's _handsome_ – "

"I understand what you're saying, Terry," Michael rolled his eyes. Now _that_ was something that had never crossed his mind! What was Terry up to? "It's just a very strange thing. I never imagined Eric doing something like this either, and he has _never_ said anything about it to me before. Not even when we worked on _Do Not Adjust Your Set_,"

"It probably isn't the kind of thing a person wants to talk about to people they had just met," Terry suggested. "Does it really bother you that much?"

"It's not that he took the picture that bothers me, it's that he never told me that he took the pictures," Michael replied, twisting himself further into the phone cord, which was stretched so far and wrapping around him. "I thought I knew everything about him, and here comes this moment in his life that I didn't expect. And it doesn't change how I feel about him…I don't understand how a nice, respectable man could do something like that."

"Admit it, Mike, you had to have been excited to find out about the pictures. You must have liked discovering that Eric was doing something vulgar and that there was proof," Terry was teasing him now. "You should be taking advantage of that. Wait until he's left for an hour, get out the pictures and your lubricant – "

Michael groaned. "Don't be disgusting. Why would I do that when I could just have sex with him?"

"What is it about these pictures that bother you so much?" Terry asked. "It happened years ago, so therefore, it's done and it's over with. You have to just let it go,"

"I don't like thinking about him doing that sort of thing. I don't like thinking about someone else looking at those pictures, and you know they're getting off looking at them. That is _my_ Eric, that's _my_ body to touch and _my_ body to look at," Michael explained. "And I told all of you how I feel about pornography, and then he comes out and admits that he was _part of it_?! Terry, wouldn't you be upset too, or am I really the only one who feels so strongly?"

"I understand what you're saying, Michael. But I think you're forgetting the point – "

"I know I should let it go. I need to forget about it, but I can't. I can't ignore it – "

He heard Terry sighing on the other end of the line. "Well, then, I don't know what to tell you. You've made up your mind about how to feel. All I can say is…" he paused, and the words that came out were more playful, almost teasing. "I wouldn't mind taking a look at these pictures."

Michael's mouth set in a frown and he held the phone away from his ear, looking at it in disgust. Was everything a joke to his friends? "Good_bye_, Terry," he said sternly into the phone, and lowered it to his side, sighing with annoyance. That went absolutely nowhere and he felt like he had wasted his time, as Terry wasn't very much help. So Michael opened the closet door and stepped out to go to the kitchen, and he came around the corner to hang up the phone and he found Eric standing at the refrigerator, holding the door opened as he was looking inside. "Oh! Um…hi…" Michael said quickly, startled. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

Eric sighed quietly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he continued to stare at the stocked shelves. "Well, I don't know if you remember or not, but I moved in here with you about a year and a half ago – " he interrupted himself to turn his eyes to Michael, who was just standing in the doorway, still appearing startled. "Sorry, that was a joke,"

"I know," Michael finally moving to hang up the phone.

The refrigerator door closed and he could hear Eric stepping closer to him. "Actually, I'm surprised you're talking to me, after your reaction to the news I gave you,"

When a pause began to fill the kitchen, Michael knew he should respond, but he didn't know how. What would he say? _Sorry, I don't like your naked pictures_? "It was shocking…to find out that you had done that," he found his voice. "I would never imagine you to do something like that,"

Eric was standing behind him then, and Michael moved to the refrigerator quickly to avoid his lover. He opened the door and was going to act as if he was looking for something far in the back, but he knew that the answers weren't inside of there. Slowly, he straightened up and closed the door, turning back to find himself face to face with Eric. It was making Michael nervous how closely Eric was following him. "Let's just forget about it," Eric told him, his voice was quiet. "Let's completely forget about those pictures and focus on the matter at hand, the issue with the show. And when that's over, we will come back to the pictures if we need to," he took Michael's face in his hands and kissed Michael gently on the mouth. "Is it gone now?"

"Well, no," Michael said slowly. "But what about – "

"What can I do to make the problem go away completely?" Eric asked, kissing the corners of Michael's mouth in turn, letting his hands drift down between them. He unbuckled the belt at Michael's waist, letting it hang loose as he found the zipper and opened the teeth to expose the material of the shorts beneath, and his fingers pushed in to trace Michael through the stripes. Almost instantly, Michael felt himself responding, and he inhaled quickly, trying to turn his thoughts away. "Does that help?"

Michael's lips twisted. "Sort of," he turned his head away so he wouldn't have to look at Eric, who continued moving his finger around the hardening phallic, playing with it. "Maybe…maybe if you – "

He interrupted himself with a heavy inhale when Eric knelt before him, his fingers hooking over the top of the waistband of Michael's shorts and pants and pulling them down to the floor. Michael felt himself slightly embarrassed that he was so hard so quick, but when he saw Eric smile at his wavering phallus, the shame went away. Eric would never tease him for being excited, as he believed that it was perfectly normal and that their bodies knew best – and besides, Eric also got excited quickly. And it also meant that things could start happening much sooner; Eric could start stroking Michael's naked erection now instead of later, and he did so with his large hands and elongated fingers. His skin was so soft on Michael, who tilted back against the refrigerator and sighed slowly as his eyes closed. "Maybe if I what?" Eric asked, although he _knew_, and Michael could tell that Eric _knew_ by the way his lover's breath eased gently over the head of his cock, the whisper of his lips so close to it – "What would you like me to do? Say it, Mikey, say it,"

"Suck my cock," Michael blurted out, and the humiliation of being so turned on washed over him again. He cleared his throat and sighed once again. "Maybe…if you suck my cock," he repeated more gently. And when nothing happened, Michael understood that the pause meant that Eric was waiting for something else. "_Please_."

Eric smiled at Michael's cock once more. "As you wish," he agreed, and took it in his mouth.

Michael's knees went weak, and he reached behind him for the refrigerator, but it wasn't strong enough for him. Blood was flowing through his body so smoothly, and he felt a little lightheaded. He felt himself sinking closer to the floor and Eric was letting him go, and Michael whimpered on the cold tiles as he was collected back into Eric's warm wet mouth. Michael continued to moan, and stars began to swim behind his eyes as his lover did as he wished, feeling as if he could completely melt, that his bones would turn to liquid and his form would become a puddle on the floor. It felt amazingly good to be sucked up and held in the way Eric did to him, and it was something that Michael could get use to. "That's just lovely," he murmured, knowing that he would have to return the favor for something so wonderful.

But how would Michael top this? Maybe he could try some of the things Eric had mentioned before. They had never licked each other there – the 'backdoor', as it was referred to amongst their friends – because it was just something they never discussed, they had never done. Perhaps Michael could do it on his own and completely surprise Eric. Thinking about it, he decided that it was something Eric might like because it was so _dirty_, and Michael could feel another rush of blood through him…and he felt a tight roll in his stomach, and he felt uncomfortable because it was so _dirty_, dirty like the movie he had watched with Eric where there was a lot of licking tight holes before pressing inside of them. Thinking of the video made Michael think of being between Eric's cheeks, inside of him, and that made him think of sex, being naked during sex, being naked, Eric naked, Eric naked while taking pictures – "Your cock tastes so good," Eric was saying against Michael's thigh, his voice a warm whisper against the hair.

And then a new thought freed itself – did the BBC know about the pictures and that was why they wanted to put such a strong censorship on their work? Michael breathed deeply, trying to dismiss the force that moved through him again. But when it stayed, he cleared his throat. "Stop," he said.

"Hm?" Eric had taken him again, sucking lightly on the head of Michael's cock.

"I said stop," Michael repeated, louder this time, and he propped himself up on his elbows.

Eric did stop and looked up at his lover, confusion drawn over his face. "Why? Did I do something wrong?"

Shaking his head, Michael cleared his throat once more and stood up. "I just don't want to do this now," he pulled up his shorts, then his pants and he closed them.

His lover remained on the floor, watching him. "This is because of the pictures…you can't get over them, can you?"

Michael started for the doorway. "I'm sorry, Eric – " he disappeared from the room, ignoring that Eric was shaking his head in disappointment and sighing with irritation.

* * *

Michael tried not to think about the pictures. He tried so hard, but there they were, in the back of his mind. He could practically _see_ the shape of the lover, shaded in gray, almost _feel_ the glossy pages – "Stop it," he sat up at his desk, catching himself thinking about them again. "Stop it _now_. Go read a book or something."

_Read a book_ – that sounded like a good idea. So Michael pushed himself away from the desk and went to the bedroom he shared with Eric, dimly lit by the bedside table lamps. On the dresser was a book that he had been reading for a month or two, and took it to the bed and opened it to the marked page. With a sigh, he sat back on the bed, half covered with giant pillows, and began to read. It had a believable plot and lovely characters, and the writing was in a style that he preferred the most, and it was a very fascinating book and he liked that it had…a sexual nature. It wasn't dirty and it _wasn't_ pornography, not the way that everyone was talking the other night. It was just enough to entertain him and get the blood flowing through – "_Stop it_!" he repeated, more angrily this time, shaking his head at how easily distracted he was.

He was able to immerse himself in the story once more, but it wasn't enough to ward away his thoughts. Michael knew what he wanted, and it wasn't to read. He glanced to the closet door, knowing that the envelope was on the other side – in a box, on the shelf, on the right hand side. It was amusing how he could see the layout in his mind, he could see it all perfectly, as if it was right in front of him – and then, it was. He was standing in the closet doorway, his hands reaching for the box. He inhaled quietly and set the box down on the floor, he removed the lid and there was the envelope. "_No_," he told himself in a whining tone, squeezing the edges, but he couldn't put it down. Michael moved some of the pillows off the bed and sat on the mattress, his back against the frame, and he began to look at the pictures.

Eric was lovely in every way. He was a complete package, at least Michael thought so, and he considered himself lucky. He was lucky to receive all the kindness and generosity and genuine love that Eric gave him, and that didn't even cover when they were between the sheets. And here in his hands were photos of Eric, exposing all of these good things; even in the pictures, there was a visible glow around him, like an aura – Michael loved Eric's aura. He was so beautiful and his body…"_Fuck_," Michael felt all the blood flown down his form to his penis, forming an erection.

One of Michael's hands left the pictures and moved over the zipper in the corduroy material of his pants. He tried to rub away the hardening bump, but it only made it worse. There was only one way to fix this problem – but Eric was in the shower. And that wasn't a problem at all, Michael could just get in with him, but how would he explain this random hard on? "Shit," Michael muttered, still trying to smooth away the lump in his pants. What to do…well, he could do it fast enough; he could wank off before Eric got out of the shower. His body moved slightly down the bed and his fingers pulled the zipper of his pants and he reached into his shorts, finding his length eagerly in his hand. "Take it easy," he reminded himself, and began to stroke himself _ever_ so slowly, his eyes never leaving the pictures.

There was nothing remotely sexual about these pictures, other than Eric's naked form and that he may have been bent forward in a couple of them. But he was just so…_indescribable_. Michael felt his hand shake faster and he let out a weak moan as he felt the slightest squeeze inside of him –

"_You do realize we can't do that on the show, don't you?_"

Michael gasped and his eyes widened in surprise as his hand gripped the pictures, crinkling the glossy pages. Slowly, he looked over the pages to see Eric standing in the bedroom doorway, a towel around his waist, his head tilted slightly to one side as he watched Michael, a look on intrigue on his face. "_Uh_…" Michael felt his face burning up, not believing that he had been caught masturbating! "What are…I thought you were in the shower," he had released himself and was pushing his body up into a sitting position.

He could see that Eric wasn't even the slightest bit dampened from a shower, and he wondered how long Eric had been standing there. "I started to take one, but there's no soap in the shower. And it's not in the bathroom closet, so I figured…it would be in our closet in here. But it looks like I caught you reading a sketch that has made quite an impression on you, unless you hate it so much you are making a few...changes? Oh _look_, it's my pictures," he teased, taking a step closer to the bed and gesturing to the pictures still in Michael's grasp. "So I thought you didn't like pornography."

"Oh, I don't," Michael let go of the pictures; Eric gave him a look of disbelief. "I really don't like it. And I like even less the idea of all sorts of strangers looking at it and _probably_ getting off. And I really don't like that you did them with some strange woman, and that you never told me,"

Eric shrugged, taking another step closer. "It just never came up. And when I did think about it, I never knew how to tell you. What was I suppose to say?" he rested his hand on the bed frame. "And it was only a onetime thing, I swear on my life,"

Michael chewed his lower lip slowly. "Alright, I believe you," he finally said in a heavy voice.

"Good," Eric smiled. "Now, do you think you can get use to living with a person who once took off their clothes for money? That one time, years ago before we started sleeping together,"

"Well, I don't know. That's a very difficult thing to try and get over," Michael replied, trying to sound as if he was lecturing. But he saw Eric step up to the bedside, and the towel was gone. "Although…I suppose I _could_ learn to just get over it,"

Eric's smile widened and he started up onto the bed, sweeping the pictures and Michael's work off the bed. "Good," he repeated.

"Hey, don't you – " Michael started to protested his actions, but Eric cut him off by moving like a bolt of lightning on top of him and pressing a deep kiss to Michael's mouth, separating his lover's lips with his tongue. "Hm…yes, _well then_…" Michael said quietly.

"I use to have a nice body," Eric gazed at one of the pictures as if the image was a long lost memory. "Five years can really wear out a man,"

Michael's hands coasted up Eric's naked thighs, over his hips, and up and down his back. "You still have a nice body," he said in Eric's ear, his breath passed in a warm exhale through Eric's hair and sending the tiniest shiver down his spine. "Five years or not, you look absolutely _fucking_ amazing,"

A kiss landed just below Eric's jaw and they continued down his neck to his collarbone. "Do I?" his voice was heavy; Michael swallowed to clear his throat. "Hm?"

"Fucking gorgeous," Michael's hand cupped Eric's chin to pull their mouths close for another kiss, and when they parted, his finger pressed into Eric's mouth to collect saliva. "Want me to prove it you, my love?"

"Yes please," Eric replied between licks.

"Turn over then," Michael said with a wicked look in his eyes. And he couldn't hold back a grin when Eric did turn over and his back arched as Michael's finger pressed inside of him. And that grin continued as he thought about how pornography wasn't dirty _enough_ for him – nothing in pornography could get him to cum as hard as when he was with Eric.

**THE END**


End file.
